Grant Bradley and the Soul Seeker
by azizi01
Summary: What if there was an American Hogwarts? This is the story of a new hero, a new Hogwarts. Read on to find out more, and don't forget to rate!
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

"Does he have any family left? At all?" Mr. Bingsley asked.

"Yes. David's sister, Martha. But she's a witch, too!" Mrs. Wutherford replied. "Veneficus might kill her as well!"

Mr. Bingsley frowned. "Then we have no choice."

"To do what?" Mrs. Wutherford stuttered. "Give him up for adoption?"

"No!" Mr. Bingsley bellowed. "Martha must be told to live as a muggle."

"What? That's preposterous!"

"Not if you want Grant to live, Bailey."

"Oh, all right, Daniel." She pursed her lips.

"Take my arm, Bailey. We'll apparate there."

She did so, and with a popping noise, they disappeared.

"She lives in St. Louis? But David and Wendy live in Denver!" Mrs. Wutherford said to Mr. Bingsley as they arrived on the street Martha lived on.

"They could apparate, you know. Additionally, Denver is closest to Tribus Mons." Daniel replied, calmly.

"Well, it's just interesting. Not much family togetherness if you're states apart!"

They arrived at a normal house. Nothing about it would give away the fact that the owner was a witch.

"Ready?" Daniel asked.

"Sure."

They walked up to the doorway, passing a nicely kept garden, bursting with blue hydrangeas.

Before they could ring the doorbell, however, Martha Bradley opened the door.

"Mr. Bingsley? Mrs. Wutherford? How nice to see you two! But I don't know why my teachers are visiting me at such a late hour."

"Did you get the news?" Mrs. Wutherford asked.

"What news?"

"Oh, my." Bailey took a deep breath. "Veneficus killed your brother, Daniel, and his wife, Wendy. He is hunting down the rest of the family."

If Martha was saddened, she didn't show it. "But what about Grant?"

"He's still alive. Matt is bringing him," Mr. Bingsley said.

"The potions master? Mr. Davis?"

"Yes. Him exactly."

A popping noise rung across the street. A tall man in a black trench coat walked up to the house with a baby wrapped in blue cloths in his arms.

"Here's Grant," he said, handing the child to Martha, looking shocked and scared.

"Thank you, Matt," Daniel said.

"No problem. Now, I have to go start brewing a potion. It's going to be for the first day of school for my first years."

"Have fun, Matt," Bailey Wutherford wished him.

Matt Davis nodded and walked away, fading into the darkness with a pop.

"So what about Veneficus? Will he come to kill me?" Martha asked.

"Not if you become a muggle," Daniel said, cooly.

"BECOME A MUGGLE? I am not becoming a muggle."

"Not become, but act like one."

Martha pursed her lips. "For how long?"

"Well, I would be a muggle until Grant turns eleven. I'm not sure if Veneficus is dead, but his followers should dwindle as Grant gets older, therefore decreasing his risk of getting murdered."

"Well. Alright. I'll take Grant in, raise him as a muggle, although it might be difficult at first. I was born in a wizarding family. But I will take care of him, until he turns eleven. Then we will have a wizard discussion."

"Good. And I will come when he turns eleven, to help him, and you, with the process," Daniel added.

"Alright. Well, it's late. Martha has got a lot to think about. We should be going," Mrs. Wutherford said. "Have a good evening, Mrs. Bradley."

"You to, Mrs. Wutherford and Mr. Bingsley." Martha closed the door, and Daniel and Bailey walked away and faded into the darkness with a pop.

Inside, Martha looked at sleeping Grant. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One: A Strange Letter, and a Stranger Aunt

Grant Bradley was a normal 10 year old. Just out of fifth grade, his eleventh birthday coming up in a few days. He didn't have many friends, but that was alright. His summer was to be spent reading.

As he walked into his Aunt's house, he thought about his parents. How they died in a car crash, and how all his other family members were dead as well, all except Aunt Martha.

He loved Aunt Martha. She was nice and sweet, but strict if the need be, which was never. She would make him cookies, always snickerdoodles, his favorite.

But when Grant brought up the subject of his family, Aunt Martha would get sad and stiff, eyes glassy, hands curling around her armchair. She would ask him if he had any homework, and he would say yes and go do it. Eventually Grant gave up on learning more about his parents.

He walked into the living room and dropped his schoolbag on the floor.

"Grant!" Aunt Martha looked up from her book. "How was your last day of school?"

"Fine," Grant replied. "Aren't you working today?"

"No. I took the day off. Today's your birthday! That's why I wished you Happy Birthday this morning, made you breakfast, made your lunch, and drove you to school."

"Why didn't you drive me home?" Grant asked as he sat down.

"Oh…I was making your cake. Let me get it!" Aunt Martha hopped up and rushed to the kitchen.

Grant loved his Aunt, but sometimes she was a little excited.

"Here it is!" Aunt Martha walked out of the kitchen with a small round cake, covered in white icing, 11 candles burning on top.

The top of the cake had the words "Happy Birthday, Grant!" on top, but were hard to read because the candles stabbed the lettering.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Grant, happy birthday to you!" Aunt Martha sang. "Make a wish."

Grant did so, and started to blow out the candles. But before one was extinguished, a bird landed on the window.

They both looked up at the window ledge.

"Is that…a barn owl?" Grant asked.

Martha's lips twitched. "Um…yes. I'll go…check it out…" She walked over, slowly.

In the barn owl's beak was a letter. Its envelope wasn't white, but an old-timey parchment, with a wax seal.

She took the letter and read the front. "To Mr. Grant Bradley, The Second Bedroom, 114 Hydrangea Drive, St. Louis, Missouri." Her lips twitched again. She read the return address. "Tribus Mo- ah!" She screamed and dropped the letter.

"No. No. No. This is not happening. He'll find out. We'll both die. WE'LL BOTH DIE!" Aunt Martha suddenly quieted down. She took the letter and hid it in her jacket.

"Um…blow out your candles, Grant."

"But what was with the owl? Why do they care what bedroom I live in? And what is Tribus Mo?"

"BLOW. OUT. THE. CANDLES."

"Okay…" And Grant did so.

Aunt Martha brought over knives, forks, and plates, and served the cake, eyes wide.

"Aunt Martha?"

BANG BANG BANG.

The two of them looked at the door.

BANG BANG BANG.

Aunt Martha rushed up to answer the door.

"Hello?" she asked, cautiously opening the red door.

"Martha!" the man said, and gave her a hug.

"Mr. Daniel, stop!" she struggled.

He pulled back. "Are we ready to tell him?"

"No. I believe if we do, us two will be in jeopardy."

"Not so." Mr. Daniel walked into the living room. "This must be Grant!"

Grant looked up from his cake, his mouth full of the chocolate and vanilla layers. "Yesh?" he asked. "Who're you?"

"I am Mr. Daniel Bingsley. Former Transfiguration teacher and currently Headmaster of Tribus Mons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Mr. Bingsley looked to be in his 50s, dressed in a sport coat and jeans.

"This is a joke…" Grant said. "Right?"

"Wrong!" Mr. Bingsley pulled out a stick, waved it, and out came an owl, white and ghost-like.

"What are you doing?" Grant asked, a little scared.

"Well, I pulled out my wand, and casted a patronus. Patronuses are good for repelling dementors or sending messages."

"WHAT? Will someone please tell me what's going on before I start to panic!"

"You're a wizard, Grant."


End file.
